


The Albatross Around His Neck

by Stariceling



Category: Tensou Sentai Goseiger
Genre: Blood, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Poly, Team Bonding, Wingfic, Wings, preening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Preening is a part of bonding between partners. Hyde still can't bring himself to share that bond with his new team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Albatross Around His Neck

**Author's Note:**

> "An Albatross Around Your Neck": A curse or psychological burden.
> 
> This came from the collision of two very important thoughts: Team preening needs to happen, and Hyde needs a lot of love. Spoilers for episode 10.

In that first week living together there are more days when Hyde wants to run away than days when he doesn’t. He fantasizes about retreating back to the ocean and nesting somewhere solitary between the rocks. There’s no one who would follow him, after all.

Partners take care of each other. It’s especially clear in their downtime when he can see them splitting naturally along tribal lines.

He walks in on the Skick partners sitting in a sunbeam together, with Eri preening Alata’s wings. Hyde only caught a flash of Alata’s wings before but it was enough to get the impression of how large they are for his body. His wings are long and broad, made for hours of soaring.

“You have the softest wings,” Eri tells him, hands teasing under the joints to make them flap. “Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy. It’s because you have all down feathers!”

“No I don’t,” Alata protests, but Hyde can see him smiling when he turns. He’s not even offended that Hyde overheard the teasing. “Hyde, you should come join us.”

“You should! We could make a circle,” Eri offers, even before he can take a step back.

“No, thank you.”

Hyde doesn’t have a partner anymore, so he has to take care of himself.

He finds privacy in the narrow attic and preens his own wings as best he can. He stretches and strains and tries to bend his body to reach every spot that needs attention. He can’t touch the area between his shoulders. He has to work blind when he wraps his wings around himself to reach the back. The lesser coverts lining the top edge of each wing elude him no matter what he does.

After an hour he’s still disheveled in so many places. There are mats that have been nagging at him since the battle with Crisolar and he can’t even preen the reminder from his wings.

The second week Hyde wants to stay more days than he wants to run. The five of them are a team, even if he is the odd one out.

It’s impossible to miss the sound of the Landick siblings preening. They fuss at each other, good-natured but loud. Nozomu describes them as only having outdoor voices. Hyde thinks of them as being too much for the room to contain.

Agri is paying careful attention to the top edge of Moune’s wing, scolding as he snips off ruined coverts at the shaft. She flicks her wing out of his fingers because she’s fine, obviously, there’s more important things than a few lost feathers.

Her wings are too nimble for Agri to pin. The rounded curves and long, swept-back primaries give her agility to flit around obstacles at full speed. They’re equally uncatchable on the ground, as she dodges her brother’s attempts to finish dealing with the bent feathers.

“Hyde, can you give me a hand?” Agri turns to him in desperation, or perhaps just irritation. “She’s impossible!”

“I’m sure you’d be much more help. He’s too rough,” Moune adds.

Hyde can only shake his head.

“We could trade off. I’d even rather do yours than deal with her fidgeting,” Agri offers.

“You don’t have to deal with mine.” Hyde retreats from the lively family bonding. He’s sure this is just another way for them to tease each other. They have each other to preen. He’s not needed.

“I don’t know how you deal with that alone,” Agri comments at his back. Hyde lets him think that this is normal. This is what he is adapting to, after all.

Growing out his nails gives him a little more traction to deal with the flaking sheaths on his replacement feathers. Hyde catches himself thinking longingly of dust baths. The best patches of fine, dry dirt are around the observatory but that would mean risking a conversation he doesn’t want to have with anyone. If Magis was here he wouldn’t feel any embarrassment taking a dust bath together.

If Magis was here he would tend to every feather three times over until he could believe in having his partner back safe and whole.

Coarse sand probably does his feathers more harm than good in the long run, but it deals with some of the itching sheaths. There is nowhere at the observatory that can accommodate his wings for bathing, but he dips them fastidiously in the ocean instead. Water rolls off his feathers, and the patches where his waterproofing isn’t perfect can be sunned dry.

At least for a little while Hyde feels clean and comfortable in his own feathers. He will learn to do this on his own somehow.

Eventually Hyde loses track of the last time he fantasized about a solitary life. His team creeps into all the little open spaces in his routine as they all learn the fit of living and working together. Only when preening does Hyde keep completely to himself.

His teammates aren’t splitting off into tribes anymore. He hears Eri humming happily to herself and finds Moune is grooming her wings this time. She can’t seem to decide where she wants Moune to focus, stretching one wing out for easy access and then switching to the other in spite of Moune’s orders to hold still. Hyde braces himself to escape another one of their arguments.

Alata is calm about it as always, sitting between Agri’s sprawled legs and watching the whole scene with a sunny smile. Agri is very intent on smoothing one secondary after another, working his way in towards Alata’s side. His furrowed look of concentration softens every time Alata moves or sighs and takes a moment to be put back into place again.

Instead of an explosion Eri just wiggles around to face Moune. “You know what? After this you should let me do yours again!” She darts her hands around Moune’s shoulders to muss her relaxed wings. Eri’s spread wings, suddenly turned towards him, are sleek and narrow and beautifully pointed. She’s the fastest of all of them in the air, especially in a dive.

“Hyde!” Moune spots him loitering, and to his surprise three other angels immediately orient towards him.

“Where were you? We were looking for you!”

“We wanted to ask you to join us.”

“We could all do it together, as a team.”

“I can’t. I forgot I still have something to do.” The excuse doesn’t matter. Hyde escapes before they can protest further. He can’t join them.

He doesn’t know why his heart is pounding at the thought. The best logical reason his mind can come up with is that they will be an odd number with him added, and that won’t work. The fact has settled in his mind that he’s the odd one out. He has no partner. He has to do this alone.

Angels aren’t built to preen alone. Arms and wings just don’t bend quite right to reach. Hyde watches Earth birds preen with a sense of childish frustration. It was never a problem before. Preening is a time for bonding with family, friends, partners, maybe even a spouse someday. It never really occurred to Hyde he would be alone this way.

It’s not as if there aren’t tools for solitary angels in the Gosei world. Hyde has a memory of long-handled, soft-bristled brushes for cleaning and pincer-like tools to fix barbs and smooth feathers back into place.

He knows a hairbrush isn’t the right tool and it isn’t going to work but he tries it anyway. For his trouble he rips out a handful of feathers near the base of his left wing.

They will probably grow back before anyone has a chance to see the bald spot, he tells himself. He just won’t let his wings show unless necessary.

The Landicks aren’t so shy about their damaged feathers. They can laugh about it, happy and easy about asking for help.

Moune is blatantly comfortable, arching her back with a happy squeak when Alata rubs around the base of her wings. “Someone got carried away with training,” she explains when he eases off.

“And who was that?” Agri demands from where Eri has him pinned face-down on the couch.

“We have to keep pushing ourselves, right?”

Agri’s grumble turns into a startled squawk and thrash, though not enough to buck Eri off of his back.

“I’m trying to be gentle.”

“You can’t be gentle with him,” Moune reveals. “He’s really ticklish.”

“Shut up!”

“Hyde, will you help me?”

He takes a step into the room before he can even think about it. After that there’s momentum to just keep going and answer Eri’s request. He kneels at Agri’s side and tries to ignore the suspicious look he’s getting while he waits for Agri’s wing to unfurl.

It looks like Argi was smashed backwards into a tree. He’s cleaned up somewhat, but there’s still bark and sap and splinters decorating his wings. Hyde traces two fingers from the base of Agri’s wing up and along the bone to check for damage, gentle but firm. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Eri mirroring the gesture.

Agri goes limp under the touch, making it easy to work back down his wing. His wings are short and rounded. Hyde can feel the flex of muscle under his fingers, rooted in strong shoulders. Agri was born for fast take offs and flying in short, powerful bursts, not for spending much time in the air.

Luckily there doesn’t seem to be much damage, just dirt and dishevelment. Agri doesn’t even twitch when he picks splinters free. In fact, Hyde thinks he hears a little sigh when he borrows a damp cloth from Eri and works bits of sap free from the soft coverts trailing towards Agri’s shoulder. It probably isn’t him. Eri has Agri’s other wing and she’s nuzzling playfully under the carpal joint.

Without thinking Hyde brings his own face close to Agri’s wing and blows softly, ruffling newly-cleaned feathers.

The noise Agri makes is unidentifiable and gets choked off halfway out of his throat. Hyde snaps his head back but he has nowhere to look except at Agri’s clean, smooth wing because suddenly everyone is looking at him. Shock makes lightning fractures through his brain at the realization of what he just did.

“It’s nothing,” Agri pretends, covering for him.

“I think that’s done.” Hyde suddenly wants out. He shouldn’t have come in at all.

Eri’s hand catches on his arm. “You should stay. Agri would return the favor, right?”

“Right!” Moune agrees. “You can have him. I’m keeping Alata!” She flops backwards into him, which only leads to laughing protests that he can’t finish with her laying on him.

He expects Agri at least to protest, but instead he hears, “Sure. I don’t mind.”

There is an ache along his back that craves the social contact. He would be comfortable with any of them at his back. He trusts them, but he can’t let them see his wings right now. He can’t show the matted mess they’ve become without Magis to look after him.

It sears like bile across his tongue to lie, to say he just finished preening himself and he doesn’t need the help.

Once he’s alone and able to think his fingers almost itch with the feeling of touching someone else’s wings again. He used to preen Magis like that. He used to smooth out strong, waterproof feathers and feel the relaxed droop of his partner’s wings, and when he was done he would put his face down close to Magis’s wing and blow just enough to ruffle him. Magis started it when they were kids, tormenting him because he was ticklish, but it became their shared finishing move.

To his fingers Magis’s wings are more familiar than his own. He can almost trace the tapered shape of them. Magis was always able to fly far and fast, outdistancing him easily. Flying over the open ocean came easily for him. It was lucky they usually were over the ocean, since he was never very agile. His take-offs and landings were always awkward, and Hyde was used to watching Magis splash down and bob back up laughing.

Magis used to tease him about the span of his wings, more than a match for his height, “You’re not a shark, you’re an albatross.” But then he never let anyone say a word about Hyde’s gangling wings and how useless they are underwater. He never once complained about the time it took to preen all the way up and down the long, narrow expanse of them. He always found time to preen with Hyde, no matter how tired he was after their long scouting flights.

He knows Magis would want him to take care of himself. He knows Magis would understand that taking care of himself means accepting help.

Even knowing that, he flinches away from the thought of asking for help. He doesn’t want to admit he’s been struggling for this long. If he could just get them to look okay, then maybe he could ask.

He snaps a blood feather. It’s completely careless of him, not even getting hit in battle but trying to make his ragged wings presentable for group preening. He was only trying to assess where a few lost feathers were growing back, the shafts still dark with blood. Using an old bottle brush to clean away the itchy bits of sheath around them ended in predictable disaster.

It won’t stop bleeding and he can’t reach. When he tucks his wings away and tries to go about his day it aches at him like a cavity. When he’s alone and snaps them open again the pain is sudden and sharp.

Hyde is a logical, self-reliant angel. He can fix this by himself.

Alata finds him trying to rip the bleeding shaft out with tongs. He doesn’t even ask. His first response is a shout for the others. “Everyone, come quick! Hyde needs help!”

When he tries to get a better look at Hyde’s wing, Hyde can’t help lifting it up, putting the damage far beyond what Alata can reach even stretching up on his toes. It hurts to move. It hurts to be touched. It hurts just sitting there bleeding. He can’t deal with facing his team like this.

“I don’t need help.” He tries to pull away from Alata’s hands so he can put his wings away. The top of his wing just brushes one of the low beams but it feels like far worse than splinters stabbing into him.

“We can help you anyway,” Eri offers. Hyde loves her relentless optimism, but not today.

“I can handle this, just give me a minute.”

Moune tackles him hard enough to make him sit down. The next thing he knows she’s in his lap, holding him by the wrists. “If we work together, this won’t even take a minute,” she promises.

Eri is right at Moune’s side. Her hand cups his cheek as she leans close to sing into his ear, “It’ll be okay,” over and over. It’s not a healing invocation, but it eases the pain.

Because of Eri he can tolerate Agri’s hands at his joints, folding his wing down until Alata can reach. While Agri holds him still, hands firm against his quivering muscles, Alata’s careful fingers seek out the bleeding shaft.

Having the ruined blood feather plucked is more relief than pain, and the ache that remains is more shame than discomfort. It’s not that he couldn’t stand the pain, Hyde wants to explain. They’ve all dealt with worse but it’s nagged and nagged at him and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Was that the only one?” Alata’s fingers are still gentle, leafing through bloodied feathers for more damage.

Eri stretches up on her knees to look. “That’s a lot of blood for one feather.”

“It was just one.” It was just bleeding for a while, that’s all.

Moune lets go of his wrists and braces her hands on his shoulders instead. She’s as solid as a battering ram, but she only taps softly at his weak spot. “I told you it would be faster to let everyone help. Are you mad?”

Hyde shakes his head. He’s worn too ragged to be mad at anyone but himself. “Thank you.”

He’s waiting for her to let him up, but then Agri finally blurts out what they must have all been thinking. “What happened to your wings? I thought you were taking care of them.”

“Isn’t it hard doing it by yourself?” Moune asks. He should have expected them to corner him together.

Alata’s fingers trail down primaries and secondaries, playing his flight feathers like a xylophone. It only serves to telegraph his intentions before he pounces on Hyde’s back.

“We’re all a team, right Hyde? So we should all look after each other.” The smile Hyde catches out of the corner of his eye is bright and impossibly warm. “It’s okay to ask for help.”

Alata is warm, leaning against the lonely ache between his shoulder blades. Hyde expects the stubborn barrier he’s put up should shatter under Alata’s weight, but really their leader is small and light and the only thing that he feels is tension slowly easing until he can speak.

“Will you help me?”

The answer isn’t even words. It’s Eri and Moune helping him up and pulling him down to the main room to make him sit in the sun. It’s all of them arranging his long wings so they can reach, with an intermittent call and response to check that he’s comfortable, that nothing hurts. It’s the moment when he finally realizes that there isn’t going to be a discussion of who is stuck cleaning him up. It’s a group activity, like Alata said.

Alata has to vault up onto the back of the couch to reach, then settles in to clean the blood from his stained feathers. His fingers are agile, but gentle. Hyde instinctively trusts him brushing the intact blood feathers clean. He moves in small patches, preening one area and stroking it comfortingly before moving on to the next.

Agri stays on his feet to handle the outside edge of his other wing. His hands are firm, one holding Hyde’s wing still whenever he finds shafts splintered down to the skin and needs to pull them. For each one he calls Hyde’s name a moment before in warning. His firm care is just as comforting as delicate touches.

“Oh, Hyde,” Eri says from behind him when she finds the bald spot on his left wing, not yet filled in. Her fingers brush gentle on bare skin and pin feathers. He had never noticed before that Eri wore false nails when preening, but it seems obvious now. Her fingers skip in an agile dance from one spot to the next and back again. It tickles, but she scratches down between the feathers to soothe him every time he twitches.

He can feel Moune jostling with Eri as they work together, but he’s sure he can tell one set of hands from the other. The pads of Moune’s fingers are just rough enough to soothe all the places that have been itching relentlessly. She hooks a finger around each feather to smooth the barbs, rather than sliding them along her nails.

“You have the softest wings,” Eri tells him, right before wrapping her arms around one and burying her face in it.

“Eri!” Alata protests, and he actually sounds offended enough to startle Hyde into laughing.

Moune wraps her arms around his neck and props her chin on his shoulder. She’s leaning on his wing, but the slight pressure is comfortable. “Don’t let it go so long next time, okay? Or I’ll tackle you again.”

“Next time you can join everyone.” Alata slides down from his perch and lands in Hyde’s lap, warming Hyde with that friendly smile that makes him so hard to refuse. “We’ll all preen together, okay? Hyde?”

Hyde is not entirely sure how he’s come to be covered in teammates. Only Agri is standing back a few steps, watching them with a smile halfway between genuine relief and a threat to taunt them. Hyde is sure he catches a curious tilt of Alata’s chin and a little sideways look before he starts urging Agri to come over and join them.

For a moment Agri hesitates, arms firmly crossed, and Hyde almost reaches out with his free hand to grab Agri’s jacket and at least confirm they are part of this together. When he checks the first twitch of his hand, hesitating himself, Agri actually has the audacity to roll his eyes. He shoos Moune back and leans in, obviously about to whisper something.

Instead he blows into Hyde’s ear, making him jerk in surprise.

“That’s payback,” Agri tells him, grinning as he backs out of reach.

Even if Agri doesn’t know it’s a way of saying, ‘we’re partners,’ Hyde already knows it’s true. They all have different ways of showing what they mean. Hyde is learning to trust what he sees in them.

Hyde feels more reassured than he ever expected, being surrounded. He has four partners right here, and partners take care of each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small detail in-fic but it was fun picking wing types that I thought would fit everyone. Here are the general types of birds each character's wings were modeled on.
> 
> Hyde - Albatross. Known for flying long distances over open ocean. I wanted Hyde to be able to glide over the ocean, and I wanted him to have a large wingspan. Perfect. (So Hyde is an albatross, but at the same time carrying the weight of one...)  
> Magis - Duck. Another waterbird which travels long distances (including over ocean for sea ducks), though their method is hours of fast flight followed by rest. As for reasons... I seem to be stuck on the idea of Magis being very protective of Hyde. Have you ever met an angry duck? You don't want to meet an angry duck. Same idea for angry, protective Magis.  
> Alata - Eagle. It feels like such a team leader stereotype but it suits Alata to have large wings for his body and to be able to spend a long time in the air. He watches out for his team from up there.  
> Eri - Falcon. Probably the easiest. No question that Eri is the fastest. Her robot is a fighter jet! Also amazing with agility, many falcons grab other birds midair for dinner.  
> Moune - Sparrow. Moune was the hardest because it was hard to pin down a consistent wing shape that went with the flight pattern I was thinking of. Sparrows beat their wings rapidly and then enter a quick glide. This works for very agile bursts of flight. I wanted a bird that is somewhat at home on the ground and very quick and agile when it comes to obstacles.  
> Agri - Grouse. Birds that like to hang out on the ground, but have a lot of power for the short busts when they do need to fly. Agri will readily use his wings as needed, but he's not at home in the air.


End file.
